Tomorrow
by Carmen Echo
Summary: ...can’t physically register what I’m doing, because I’m pressing back, and I’m doing it willingly, and he is older, and he is my girlfriend’s brother, and she thinks I’m straight, and I swear I could never feel something like this with her... Touya x Sya


Tomorrow

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A/N: Let us pretend Syaoran is sixteen and Touya is twenty one and still living with his family 'cause he goes to college. It would just be later than in the series.

Warnings: Lime. Touya x Syaoran. Just because I think it's so damn hot. Minor x adult. All that good stuff your mother would slap you if she found out you liked.

Disclaimer: I own none of it. Seriously. And if you think I do - you're sorely mistaken. I'm actually quite poor.

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I see Sakura often. We like to call it 'having fun together', but really it's usually nothing more than a movie, conversation, and if she feels up to it, a kiss goodnight. It's really not that bad. Sometimes, or, rather, more often than not, we end up at her house. Have dinner with her family. That's not too bad either. It usually lasts fifteen minutes to half an hour, I never eat anything, just have tea, and her dad always politely offers twice. The first time to see if I'm going to have anything, and the second time to make sure. Sakura quickly wolfs down a veggie roll and some rice and I don't watch her. I have this little thing where the smallest details can turn me off. Seeing girls eat, especially quickly, turns me off. The knowledge alone, that she is currently eating something in close proximity of me makes me cringe. Though there is one person I like to watch. And that person is her brother.

I don't do it. I TRY not to do it. But it's unfortunately outside my immediate ability to NOT watch Touya eat. I'd gladly watch him do anything, but I rarely get to. It's mostly eating or watching TV. Both are with someone else in the room. This is bad. Not just bad, it's TERRIBLE. But it's not like I can help it. He is probably the best looking guy I've ever seen. He is one of those people you notice because of the way he moves, not because of the way he looks. He is the kind of person who's presence you FEEL, the person you KNOW is there because you unconsciously memorize the way his footsteps sound. He is tall, thinly built, and pleasantly languorous in everything he does. It doesn't have to imply sex, though it mostly does. Just because the way he operates his chopsticks makes me think dirty things. He chews slowly, thoroughly, in small, delicate bites. His jaw moves gently over his food, the motion ascending up to his temples. Touya swallows just as slowly, Adam's apple bobbing as he does so. This is usually when I need to swallow the saliva that collected at the bottom of my mouth, because having been so preoccupied with watching him I forget to do it myself.

Today is a 'good day' because everyone decides to move over to the living room to watch some television. After about ten minutes Sakura's father filters out of the room unnoticed because he has that tendency, and I'm left with Sakura sitting beside me, and Touya in the armchair closer to the other side of the room. He has the remote. This means we watch sports. For once Sakura doesn't exercise her ability to yap and decides to just give up the fight for the remote control before it blows out of proportion.

No one speaks. Sakura makes no move to be affectionate towards me, we only do this in private, and even in private it doesn't go much past the half-hug. My hands are folded in my lap. Again, my eyes are on him, and I automatically feel guilty. But the desire to strip my girlfriend's older brother with my eyes wins over my guilty conscience so I continue. His eyes are surprisingly large. Large and slanted. And dark. And hot and cold at the same time. I reluctantly stop watching him to slip a glance at Sakura, who's head is turned towards the TV, for once immersed in what she is watching. I turn my eyes back to him and feel my stomach drop. He is looking back. He is STARING back. And I want to slip my eyes away but a second has already gone by so there's no way of making it look casual. Looking away now would mean admitting defeat. So I don't. And I do something I promised myself to never do. I blush. My cheeks fill with color and it's almost worse than having to look back. The blush is the deep kind. The kind that you know is creeping up your neck. The kind someone across the room can see.

It's humiliating. He keeps looking. My lips are dry, and impulsively, my teeth clamp down on the bottom one. This seems to amuse him, because the right corner of his lips twitches upwards, bearing some kind of resemblance to a smile. This sets off the dimple in his cheek. And I'm pretty sure that right about now I'm about to snap.

"I need to use the bathroom." I whisper to Sakura, and she nods absently, still thankfully consumed with what ever is on TV.

The water is cold. Very cold. The kind of cold that makes your jaws clench, that numbs your face, and perhaps anything else that needs numbing. I turn the tap off and sink my face into one of the pristine towels from the rack. It smells like detergent. Patting down my sopping forehead and cheeks I look back to the mirror. The usual pallor returns to my skin. I start thinking about going home before I do something stupid like actually try to make a pass at him. It's not like I'll have a healthy excuse if he rejects me either. Maybe the smirk was just a hallucination. Maybe he was looking somewhere behind me. Maybe- he's standing in the doorway because I'm too stupid to close the door behind myself when I walk into bathrooms.

One step, and he is in the room, invading my personal space, and worse, closing the door behind him. I can't really say anything. I'm pretty shocked and frozen and looking like a complete moron with a stunned expression on my face. He takes another step. And because their bathroom is so damn small he is inches from me. He raises his hand, leans in, and forcefully cups the side of my neck. I can then appreciate the true MAGNITUDE of his hands. The tips of his fingers weave into the hair at the nape of my neck while the edge of his palm is on the corner of my jaw. I involuntarily move my head to accommodate this pleasant pressure because I realize that I actually LIKE being handled this way by him. He is taller than me. By about a head. And this is terrible because it makes me feel like a little girl compared to him. Though at that point I couldn't care less because his other hand is coming around my hip, then down, grabbing my leg and literally yanking it up as he maneuvers his hips to press into mine. His hand moves to do the same to my other leg, lifting me off the ground and I'm feeling impulsive because my right hand comes around his neck and I'm afraid to lose balance and fall but the fear seems to distant. It seems unreal and back with all the things that make sense like being in Sakura's bathroom and washing my face, not being pressed up against a wall with her brother's hard, unyielding body and loving every millisecond of what's happening.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize that I can't fall because both his hands are under my ass, pushing me upwards so that the aching hardness in my jeans is pressed into something similar in his. I can't physically register what I'm doing, because I'm pressing back, and I'm doing it willingly, and he is older, and he is my girlfriend's brother, and she thinks I'm straight, and I swear I could never feel something like this with her. It all feels unbearably good, and then his hand returns to the side of my neck, harsher this time, and I bend as much as I can, OFFERING myself without any sort of pride or, God forbid, inhibition. His other hand slides up my ass and onto the small of my back under my shirt. My hips twitch outward, against his, and then he begins to move. He does this as slowly as he eats, with steady, slightly increasing pressure, hips grinding against mine, and everything is so hot, and retarded and wrong that my clouded mind can't even fathom what's happening.

"Oh shit." I almost moan. But my voice is too strained to moan, so I kind of breathe it. I'm pressed to him. Completely. My whole front is GLUED to him. He groans against my neck and the air that skates over my heated, perspiring flesh is enough to send chills down my spine. I arch into him, more so than before, and somewhere along the line he forgets to be slow, slamming me into the wall with his body.

He isn't kissing me. And for some reason I need that one intimacy almost more than I need physical contact with his hips. He reads my mind, because within a second his lips are so close, hovering millimeters away from mine and I can feel his erratic breathing and I swear if he doesn't do something I might just explode.

His are barely parted, as are mine. Our lips are touching, but nothing is really happening besides the constant friction of our bodies that's making me elicit sounds that I didn't know existed. We're just breathing against each other. Everything is too much. Too close, too hot, too sudden. He pulls his mouth away a little, and brings it back, and my lips follow his hungrily, though not daring to take it any further than what he so far allowed.

"Don't stare… If you're not going to do anything about it…" he whispers against my lips and pulls away completely, dropping me on the tile floor in a standing position.

I struggle to keep upright, and lean against the counter to be able to do so, because none of my joints seem to be working properly. The only way you can tell that Touya was just pressed against me is the faint discoloring in his cheeks. Otherwise he's as perfect as ever. Me on the other hand, I LOOK like I just did something wrong.

It feels like hours have gone by but it's only been about ninety seconds. I must look really pathetic, because he just smirks, shakes his head, and walks out of the bathroom, lazily throwing one last phrase over his shoulder.

"Come back when you're ready to make the first move." and the slight rasp in his voice makes me shiver.

Everything seems to hurt from unreleased tension and I'm desperate for more contact. I go through the whole face washing routine again, and go downstairs. I don't even remember what I say to Sakura about having to leave, but she doesn't seem to mind. I don't see him again throughout my remaining five minutes in the Kinomoto residence.

Only when I get home do I realize that I'll be back there tomorrow. And it won't be to 'have fun' with Sakura. There is another person I need to see, for a completely different matter.

End.

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A/N: Review. Just because it's nice.


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